Flickers in the Dark
by Argentus
Summary: On the dreary sunless sea of Underland, Jill and Eustace patch some things up.


**Disclaimer: I doubt you'd be in the "C.S. Lewis" section if you didn't know who owned this universe : )**

**Flickers in the Dark**

…_one wanted the touch of a friend's hand, at a moment like this._

-_Travels Without the Sun_, **The Silver Chair**

Jill woke with a start. The ship's splintered floorboards were biting through her thin clothes, and she coughed and sneezed in a cloud of ancient dust. The sphere lantern, hung amidships, cast nothing but a grayish gloomy light, only increasing the ominous, blackness of the Underland they were sailing through. She listened for the telltale slap of the Earthmen's oars on still water, and felt cold dread gnaw in the pit of her stomach, as she pulled her dusty cape closer.

Her bleary, waking eyes were only beginning to adjust to the weak light. Eustace seemed to be asleep at her right; chest rising and falling at a regular rhythm, though his face was hidden by his cloak. Shuddering, she wondered how he could stand being stifled under a cover, as if being trapped for miles underground wasn't bad enough. At her left, Puddleglum had splayed out as comfortably as his gangly legs allowed, emitting low guttural grunts in his sleep; one webbed hand still clutched the flat, tasteless loaf that the Earthmen had given them an hour or so ago.

She was the only one awake.

Shaken, Jill hugged her knees, trying not to look along the bulwarks. She had found out the hard way that the Earthmen's misshapen faces cast very eerie shadows in the lanternlight. They looked so miserable she would have felt sorry for them hadn't they been gloomily singing their horrible idea of a chantey for the past few hours. _"Many glide on through waters dark, and few return to the sunlit lands, and few return to the sunlit lands, yes few return to the sunlit lands…"_

This simply wouldn't do. _Positive thoughts, Jill!_ They _were_ going to find the lost Prince at last, Jill told herself ferociously. As long Puddleglum was with them, it _would_ be alright…but oh, they were sailing deep into the Earth's navel with miles of rock packed above them, and, and… With a tremulous breath, she remembered her last glimpse of overcast sky before scooting down into a pitch-black crevice. If that was to be the last bit of sky she would ever see…

No, this wouldn't do at all.

She reached for the closest of her most soothing thoughts; grasping Puddleglum's bony shoulder, and had just begun to shake him awake, when another voice altogether cut through the darkness and the Earthmen's soft murmurs.

"Don't do that, Pole"

Looking tousled, but sounding quite awake, Eustace struggled to sit up, throwing off his cloak. "He needs his sleep too, you know" he said in his matter-of-fact voice, and stifled a huge yawn.

"I know," Jill sighed, watching him stretch the kinks in his back. "I only…I guess I don't like being alone, if you know what I mean."

"… Well, in case you forgot, _I'm _with you too," he said, looking a bit slighted. Jill forgot to be cross when she saw the faint scratches on Eustace's face, and his black hair ashy with dust. The front of his tunic was ripped and filthy; he looked paler than she had ever seen him before.

"He's been a right brick, hasn't he?" she said softly, nudging their sleeping companion with her foot. Eustace blew at a stray hair that had gotten into his eyes and nodded sleepily.

"He's the best of us, I shouldn't wonder," he said. "He's kept whatever's left of my spirit up…and he's kept us both from ripping each other apart." Eustace cast a cautious glance at her, as though expecting argument but this was the last thing she felt like doing; his comment had made her dredge up a previously buried fear. In a small voice, Jill stammered "Scrubb…there's something I…I can't help thinking."

"Whatever's the matter?" Eustace whispered back in alarm. Jill forced her voice to a whisper.

"We've been at it hammer and tongs for most part of this journey, and do you think…do you suppose Aslan's angry with us?" Eustace's eyes widened but she pressed on, knowing there was nothing more to lose. "Do you suppose this is why he hasn't shown himself since?"

"No…no Pole", Eustace placed one hand on her shoulder. In the cold and dank, his warmth was almost startling. "He wouldn't put anything horrid on us…however beastly we've been" Eustace continued in a low tone. "Look Pole, I can't say I know how he thinks, but he would never _quite_ let the worst happen. Besides, he left you the Signs—"

"Which we've muffed for most part," Jill said, not wanting to say it. And they both drew in sharp breaths, and she groaned at the memory.

For a while, there were only cavernous murmuring echoes and the sound of oars slapping on water; as they mulled over their own uncomfortable thoughts. Then he shuffled closer to her, his voice likewise sinking to a stubborn whisper.

"But muffed or not…we _are _going the right way now!"

"Too bad it has to be such a ghastly way," she shook her head, shivering slightly. Eustace cleared his throat and took his hand off her shoulder.

"So whatever's next," he declared, "I think we should make a...oh what-do-you-call-it…a pact. That we won't muff anything more with our bickering."

It wasn't what he said, more of the lofty way he said it. He sounded knowing and smug again, and she couldn't help her dawning irritation. "Are you serious?" she half-goadedhim.

Eustace was looking less agreeable. "Of course I'm serious!" he practically snapped. "And I proposed it first. I'll do it…if _you_ promise not to start up."

Jill scowled at his rigid form. "No! I will, if _you_ go first! And you always start it anyway." she retorted as Eustace faced her, thoroughly put out. "No!" he snarled at the same time. "I won't do it if you—"

Then at once, they both shut up, realizing that the Earthmen's heavy murmurs had died away. Countless pairs of blank, gloomy eyes were turning to the far side of the ship where they sat, as if daring them to break the sudden, unsettling silence. A lump leapt into Jill's throat, she twitched from sheer unease; beside her, Eustace was letting out a slow, unsteady breath.

Jill's heart was in her mouth. _Now _what would they do; what _could _they do? Pinpoints of gloomy lanternlight shone from the Earthmen's vacant eyes, flickers in the dark, but they scared her out of her wits. _Wake Puddleglum _a tiny voice in her mind hissed, but her petrified limbs refused to cooperate.

Finally, excruciating and slow, the Earthmen turned their attention back to rowing, back to the weakly lit water, back to the absolute blackness up ahead, as though nothing had ever occurred.

"Blast it…" Eustace whispered shakily, angry at no one but himself. Jill gave a quiet humorless laugh. She linked her hands, peering into the colorless gloom. Losing one's temper, she thought, was a very convenient outlet for fear. Eustace was now displaying it quite colorfully, muttering a string of curses under his breath.

Then in the tight silence that followed came a sound as welcome as a foghorn on a moonless night at sea. Jill _never_ imagined she would feel that way about one of Puddleglum's infernal snores, and couldn't hold back a nervous fit of giggles.

"…Sounds like an express train" Eustace grunted. Jill quietly chuckled again, grateful for the broken tension.

"… Scrubb?" she found herself asking. When he met her eyes, he looked more like a chastened child than a smug schoolboy. Encouraged, she softly ventured "Listen, how about we start over, make it Pax? No more fighting, starting now."

He nodded right away, and leaning in closer, Jill whispered "We simply _must. _For Narnia, if for nothing else. …Golly!" a queer thought had suddenly struck her. "The fate of a _country_ rests on us, Scrubb. Think of what they'd say in History class."

"They'd punish you for telling tall tales," Eustace remarked drily. The next moment, his voice turned rather funny and he bit his lip. "Alright then Pole. For Narnia. But also for…for my friend. The..the King, I mean" Jill looked away; probably the most tactful thing to do for Eustace had twisted his face and was blinking in the oddest manner. "I mean," he wavered. "I feel like a rat. I think I forgot about Caspian for a while during all our adventures. But when he comes back I want him to see his—"

He stopped himself just in time, remembering that they couldn't say anything about their quest, or Prince Rilian, just yet. Not with a host of these strange creatures all around them. Jill had just been about to clamp her hand over his mouth; she dropped it on his knee instead, and patted it clumsily.

Eustace gave her a hesitant smile, somewhat strained, but a smile nonetheless. "Let's do it for Puddleglum too," he said as an afterthought. "I'm sure he'd be glad not to hear any more yawping. Oh, and Pole, let's not forget…"

She and Eustace locked eyes, each simply _knowing_ what the other was thinking, and they clasped hands in promise, without question or complaint, both speaking the great name at the same time.

"…for Aslan"

Their hushed voices lingering in the darkness were fervent and hopeful, heard by no one but themselves, and perhaps, the name bearer. Jill held her breath. She found herself waiting for the dreary light to shine a little brighter, or perhaps, impossibly, for the old ship and the tirelessly rowing Earthmen to melt away, for the Underland to have been a terrible pitch-black nightmare. None of that happened; the only rough comfort came from her hand clasped in Eustace's , warm and really quite soothing.

"Scared?" he muttered; his breath tickled her ear. "I only just noticed that you…your hand is shaking like mad." and he squeezed it even tighter.

Jill gritted her teeth; she didn't know what she would do if they started to chatter. "I…don't know…how much more I can stand in this Hole," she whispered. She hadn't _really_ expected Aslan to swoop in and take them back...but his golden name, whispered in the dark, made him seem so far away. She tried to swallow over the lump in her throat. Eustace was peering warily at her; there were dust motes caught in his lashes, Jill thought, there was dust and soot _everywhere_, and stone-faced, heavy-voiced Earthmen imprisoning them, and tons of rock above them, and _oh_, blinding darkness before them as they sailed into the unknown…

Eustace broke into her racing thoughts "You know my first trip to Narnia, I slept in a cabin-a nice one too. Ed and Caspian gave me the bunk- but I called it a Black Hole, the first time I saw it. Little did I know there were places that really _were_ Black Holes" he grimaced, not noticing her rising panic.

"The Dark Island, I believe that was much worse than this. Loads of dark magic and ugh, horrible stuff! A place with nightmares coming true…" he stopped to take a breath. "Pole?"

_This _is_ my nightmare come true!_ Jill was thinking, but told herself that he was _trying_ to make her feel better. "I," she tried to stop her tremors "I…just…Oh, I…I never hear much about your first trip to Narnia."

"I'll try to tell it straight some other time," he promised awkwardly and she felt a flutter of warmth that she'd nowadays reserved for Puddleglum. Eustace surprised her, in many ways. Right now, she could see twin glints in his eyes, somehow trapping the lanternlight, the only traces of light in the darkness. The sight of them reassured her, just a little.

She began to spread her cape beneath her, creasing the now dusty cloth to form a makeshift bed on the rotten floorboards. "I think we need our sleep now, Scrubb" she answered, to his raised eyebrows. "I don't know if it's night up there, but whatever's ahead…let's at least try to rest." Part of her only wanted to shut everything out, still carrying a faint hope of Aslan turning up in another dream; another part was sensibly reminding her that this was still haughty, grating _Scrubb_ after all, she needn't start having odd thoughts about _him _too.

"The more you _try_ to sleep, the worse it'll get" he stated. Jill was forgetting to be annoyed every time he did this; he always ended up contradicting himself anyway. Sure enough, Eustace was soon blinking, and in between stifling huge yawns, mumbled "…You're right, I guess. We don't know what…what we're about to face."

They settled back to back on the slightly grimy fabric; shifting for comfortable positions was no easy task. And still, an unsettling odor of ancient dust hung over them and she could hear every floorboard on the ship creak and sigh. No sooner had Jill shut her tired eyes, when a loud Marsh-wiggle snore—right next to her head, nearly shattering her eardrums— made her wince.

"Ohhh," she gasped, slapping a hand over her right ear "Not to take back all the good things I've said about him, but he _still _sounds like a road drill."

"Express train," Eustace corrected. There was a hitch in his usually smooth voice and Jill frowned, and echoed his earlier question.

"Scrubb? Something wrong?"

Eustace squirmed, heaving a sigh; Jill rolled over to face him. What she could see of his shadowy face in the faint light wore the oddest expression. "It's…it's not what you might think," he muttered; hesitated and then blurted out "I've got the wind up too…but for a different reason, Pole . I keep thinking of Caspian and Peter and Ed, they were kings, they were brave and everything…but I'm just a boy. I've no idea if I can be as good!"

He said this all very fast, trying not to look at her, putting out a hand to stop her from interrupting as he continued.

"What you said…fate of Narnia resting on us…what if despite all we did, we let them down? Then I'd let a whole _country_ down—"

"Don't think that, for heavens sake!" Jill hissed; he was calling on her own worst fears. "Think of what we promised, Scrubb. Think of Puddleglum here with us, or those Owls back Narnia who knew we could do it…And Scrubb, don't forget _Aslan_!"

The name seemed to calm him and he breathed easy for a while, but didn't speak.

"Still," Jill groped for words. She couldn't explain why his panicky confession was calming to her. "Still you can fight and shoot, I've seen you do things that I've just began to learn. If this whole thing comes to a fight, you can still do _something_. And your cousins aren't here now." she pointed out. "Aslan sent _you._"

"But…my cousins were all too old to come back. I think he sent me here because I was the only one left to send."

He sounded gloomier by the minute. Jill was choking on dust and disbelief. She had a spasm of coughs before scratchily whispering "S-Stop that! He sent _you_ here for a reason" _And what about me? _she thought suddenly._ Why would he have sent _me, _then_?

"Thanks anyway, Pole" he finally said, sounding grateful but not entirely convinced. "And…don't forget, Aslan sent us _both._"

"Of course I meant both of us" Jill said, rolling her eyes. She was quite glad that he was finally starting to see it…but a few days ago, _she_ was the one who reminded him that. Eustace sighed and shifted, making the floorboards squeak.

"I'm just trying to be nice."

She stiffened. "…_trying _to be nice?"

"Pole, you know what I mean! I'm glad," he continued loudly, ignoring her indignation, "that we decided Not. To. Fight . Anymore."

Jill caught his wry smile and gave in, smiling herself.

"Well I'm glad too. It's nice talking like this, as if—"

"As if we were actually friends instead of worst enemies?" He saw her sheepish grin and reached over to give her curls a soft tug. Jill blinked in surprise. "Oh…"

"You're really not bad, Pole," he said quietly. "I think you're braver than me."

And Puddleglum chose that moment to let out another ear-shattering snore, making them both jolt. "_He's _bravest, though" Eustace whispered, over her muffled groan.

* * *

Jill felt calm as calm could be. Fear had become nothing but a faint memory; distant as the sky over the upper lands. She stared at the lightless cave ceiling, and tried to pretend it was the sky on a moonless, starless night.

The Earthmen were no longer speaking; the only sound in the caverns was of oars slicing through still waters. Even Puddleglum had quieted down; thankfully having slipped into deeper, snore-less sleep. As had Eustace. Jill let herself be lulled by the warmth of his back, and his soft, steady breathing.

She smiled drowsily. She'd never thought…or maybe she'd always known that if — no _when _they got out of here, she and Eustace would be bound by much more than a promise. After all, they would have shared Narnia, gone through hair-raising adventures, and if she dared to imagine it, inevitably emerge into their own world as…as the exact opposite of worst enemies.

Maybe the very worst of their daunting quest still lay ahead and Aslan's final Sign was nowhere to be seen. But in this endless, forbidding blackness, the only thing to do was wait…and think.

And right now she couldn't help thinking…

…it _would_ be very nice having someone to face 'Them' with, when they got back to Experiment House.

Flickers in the dark, but they made her feel a little braver.

**A/N:Wonder why not too many people write about these two…they're such fun to work with! As well as terrific characters. **

**So you read it…Care to review?**


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